


Violent Love

by DittyWrites



Series: Birds of Gay (2020) [4]
Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DCU
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Breathplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dominance, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22658188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/pseuds/DittyWrites
Summary: Victor Zsasz has a praise kink and Roman Sionis is more than happy to indulge it when it suits him.(Will be updated with random NSFW drabbles as i write them)
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Series: Birds of Gay (2020) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629667
Comments: 62
Kudos: 511





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a simple person. I ask for prompts, i receive one immediately for a praise kink, i fill it. Bish, bash, bosh.
> 
> Please enjoy! I'm still new to these characters so as always feedback is appreciated and move loved! The more interest these fics get, the more time I can spend on em. C'est la vie xx

Arriving at the warehouse with a spring in his step as he emerged from his car, Roman was quick to take in the few bodies he could see scattered around the area. Two were crumpled outside of the warehouse door and another was splayed against the metal railing above like a doll with its strings cut.

Victor has texted him to say the job was finished and Roman had always been a hands-on type of leader when it came to these sorts of massacres.

“Stay here and keep guard.” Roman warned his guard. “Only enter if you hear me asking or I will personally have you crucified.”

A chorus of ‘understood’ mixed with frantic nodding met him, and he paused at the warehouse door before sliding it open, the squeal of the metal unpleasant as it gave way to his strength.

The first thing to hit him was a smell he had become very accustomed to over the years as it was hard to mistake the coppery scent of fresh blood. The potency of it was intense and Roman knew that there was more than one body contained somewhere within this space. That and the deaths had not been pretty.

Despite his suspicions, the place looked surprisingly clean. As clean as it could be if you discounted the bodies which were littered just outside of the doorway and he proceeded along the floor with a casual gait, keeping his senses trained to detect any sign of life.

Then he turned the corner.

One of the wooden pallets which was propped against the wall had a large, red smear running down the centre of it which pointed the way down to a fallen body, its face turned towards the floor. Another body, its arm twisted in a sickening manner, lay not too far away and the hand which was visible on the twisted arm was missing at least one finger.

A quick headcount told Roman that there were at least six bodies on the floor, possibly more, as some appeared to be in more than one piece. Death hung in the air like cheap cologne and Roman breathed it in deeply. The area looked like a battlefield, the chaos of the fight showing in the destruction of the room and the corpses which littered the floor.

And there, in the centre of the viscera and chaos, stood Victor.

Mild relief swept through Roman and he could feel the tension leave his shoulders as he surveyed his favourite lieutenant and lover.

His pale blue bowling shirt was covered in blood, some of it the sprayed result of a close-range gunshot and some of it had pooled in areas which suggested a more intimate kill. On his left shoulder sat a bloody handprint which trailed off across the collar. The dark slacks he wore were suspiciously shiny in areas and Roman was certain that if he ran his hand across them, they would also come away covered in red.

Absolutely giddy with his victory, Roman could barely feel the ground beneath him as the soft Italian leather of his shoes tactfully dodged the larger pools of blood which blocked the way to his target.

Victor took a polite step towards him as he drew near and Roman could see even more blood lightly spattered across his handsome face, the dried red standing out brilliantly against the pale skin even in areas where his stubble was darker. Some blood had gathered on his left eyelid, partially hidden behind his thick lashes, and Victors’ cold brown gaze warmed almost imperceptibly as Roman invaded his personal space.

Cupping Victors’ face with his hands, Roman brushed his gloved thumbs along the blood-spattered cheeks, the leather masking the sensation of his stubble.

“Never doubted your talents for a second.”

Victor grunted his disbelief, but visibly relaxed into Romans’ touch as the sadist continued to cup at his face gently.

“There were thirteen of them.” Placing his hands atop Romans’, Victor took the opportunity to get the business discussion out of the way.

“I know,” Roman agreed with a slight frown, “I tried to text you to let you know that, but you didn’t fucking respond.”

“I was a bit busy, boss.”

Roman shrugged away the explanation.

“Any injuries?”

“None,” Victor confirmed as a feral grin stretched his face, “for me at least.”

“Oh, babe,” Roman matched his grin with one of his own, “don’t spare me any details. All dead?”

“The five outside ate a bullet before they knew what was happening,” recounting the tale, Victor reluctantly pulled away from Romans’ hands as he pointed out some bodies, “those two were also shot. The rest tasted my blade.”

“That explains the blood. I’m happy you had some fun.” Roman tilted his head, surveying the carnage of the room. “Did you get me a present?”

“One of the ones up the back had some really fucking cool tattoos across his face, so I’ve got them all wrapped up for you and sitting on that box over there.”

Throwing his hands out to the side, Roman brought one arm down with dramatic flair as he indicated to Victor with an open palm.

“Fantastic! You spoil me!” His exclamation was sincere and Roman took a minute to track his eyes leisurely across Victors’ body. “Have I ever told you how much I love you in red, baby?”

At the praise, Victor felt warmth sweep through him, and he smiled.

“All for you, boss.”

Roman hesitated in his theatrics for a moment before his arms fell to his side and a wicked glint entered his eyes, the robins-egg blue glinting with mischief.

“You are so good for me, aren’t you? Look at how amazing you are.”

Close enough to be able to feel the breath of the other, Roman watched with delight as Victors’ eyes dilated at the offered praise. They’d only been fucking for a few weeks when Roman discovered Victors’ little _affinity_ for being given praise and it was, by far, one of his favourite games to play with the assassin.

“My good boy.” Roman crooned, deftly unbuttoning the top button of Victors’ shirt to allow the other man to cotton on to his plans.

“Boss?” Victors’ voice was strained with only the smallest hint of uncertainty.

“You do so well for me. Do you know how fucking gorgeous you look like this?”

Running his hand across Victors’ head, the buzzcut offering no resistance to his leather gloves, Roman brought his hand down to sit below Victors’ chin and force him to give his full attention.

Eyes’ fully dilated; it wasn’t difficult to see the heat flashing through Victors’ expression as his tongue darted out to lick at his suddenly dry mouth. This knowledge, that he could bring such a dangerous man, a man who has more blood on his hands than anyone else he had ever met, to heel with little more than some positive affirmations was intoxicating.

“Fucking beautiful.”

Moving forward, Victor pushed up against his side and Roman could feel the hardness pressing against his hip as Victor rubbed against him slightly, letting him know what effect his words were having.

“You’re playing with fire, boss.”

The accusation came out as more of a whine, but Victor was too proud to acknowledge it, choosing instead to focus on slipping his hand into Romans’ suit jacket and running his calloused hand along the silk shirt.

“So fucking hard already,” Roman commented with a coy expression as he opened his leg a touch wider to allow Victor better access, “are you enjoying this?”

“Quit being a fucking tease.” Victor grunted, painfully hard as he continued to subtly grind against Romans’ hip.

Turning his head to catch Victors’ lips in his own, Roman took a moment to bask in the familiar sensation of the rough stubble irritating his perfectly smooth skin as he led the assassin in a truly filthy kiss.

“You’ve done such a good job,” Roman whispered, rolling the words against Victors’ ear, “I can’t wait to get you home and reward you properly. But for now-”

Loosening Victors’ belt with a practised hand, Roman quickly unzipped his fly and slid his hand past the waistband of Victors’ boxers until his fingers could grasp around their intended target.

At the contact, Victor let loose a guttural growl and placed a steadying hand on Romans’ bicep.

Knowing that they would not be interrupted unless the world itself was ending, Roman was willing to take his time. The butchery around them did nothing to ruin the mood, if anything, the presence of death when they were oh so alive served as an aphrodisiac.

“So beautiful when you’re covered in the blood of people who tried to fuck us over.” The familiar warmth of Victor in his grasp felt right as Roman started to slowly draw his hand up and down his hard length as he continued to praise him, “So ferocious.”

Running a finger along the ridge of Victors’ cock, he licked his lips as the movement caused a low whine to emerge from Victors’ throat and the hand on his bicep tightened to an almost uncomfortable level.

“My right hand.” Roman continued, building up pace as he twisted his wrist on the downstroke, knowing exactly what he needed to do to turn Victor into putty in his hands. “My warrior.”

Victor bit his lips so harshly that his mouth immediately filled with blood as Roman swirled around the small beads of precum which had accumulated at the tip of his cock with his thumb. No one ever made him feel this good and he didn’t think anyone ever could.

Roman gave him companionship and had never once denied or tried to discourage him from the violence which made up his very essence. Roman have him purpose.

And he gave Roman everything.

Reaching down, Victor had only just managed to brush his own hand against Romans’ cock, as hard as his own but still confined within his suit pants, when a vice-like grip seized his wrist.

“I’ll get mine later,” Roman breathed, returning Victors’ hand to his arm, “and I want to save my energy.” He added with a salacious wink, leaving no doubt as to his intentions.

As Roman settled into a steady pace, Victor knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He was painfully hard to begin with and each stroke of his cock sent sparks of pleasure jolting through his body, the only thing keeping him upright being his firm grip on Romans’ upper arm.

Feeling the tell-tale twitching of the cock in his hand, Roman slowed for a moment to wrap his other hand around Victors’ throat. Brown eyes, almost black in their dilated and darkened state, quickly met his gaze and he tightened his grip slightly to ensure that he definitely had Victors’ full attention again as he spoke, his voice heavy with desire.

“Come for me, baby.”

At the demand, Victor lurched forward and buried his face into Romans’ neck to muffle his cry as his release hit. The tension within him snapping all at once as he came all over Romans’ hand, a hand which prolonged his orgasm as it continued to move slowly in its determination to drag every inch of pleasure out of him that it could.

Intoxicated by the power he held in the moment, Roman was momentarily distracted by a sharp stinging pain in his neck which drew a loud moan from his lips as he realised that Victor had bitten him. He briefly considered chastising the assassin for the mark which he could guaranteed was going to be left on the curve of his neck, but he decided against it. 

Besides, when Victor had finished cleaning himself up and they had returned home, a small bite given in the heat of the moment was going to be the least of their concerns.

Compared to what both knew was going to come when they finally had the time to properly ‘enjoy’ their victory, a small bite was practically foreplay.


	2. Body Worship

Swirling his brush in the small pot of red liquid which sat atop the plastic foldaway table he used for such purposes, Roman paused to consider his next move as he observed his art piece. Almost completely bare, he had only managed to place a few strokes of red in key areas, but he was certain that it would all come together in the end.

Dragging the brush down his canvas as he followed the natural scar line he was using as his guide, the torn flesh ended just before a small, pinkish nipple but Roman did not stop. He watched with delight as the rough bristles caused the small bud to harden in the cool air of the bedroom.

Their owner gave a soft exhale which was heavily muffled by the cotton handkerchief which had been stuffed inside his mouth and tied into place with a silk tie. Bound to a wooden structure which held his arms aloft but kept his feet firmly planted on the ground, the silk ties around his wrists and upper arms bit into his arms enough to let him know that escape was impossible.

Not that he had planned on it.

Not while Roman was looking at him like _that_.

“My assassin,” Roman mused with a lazy, lustful grin as he caught Victors’ lust-blown eyes, “a real work of art.”

There was something in the manner in which Roman referred to him as ‘his assassin’ which made a warmth break out within Victors’ chest. The slight reverence within the words was carefully hidden behind a much more apparent prideful ownership which dominated the tone and Victor knew it made him special.

No one else would, or even could, do the things for Roman that he would; and they both knew that.

Roman was always one to reward loyalty and if there was thing which he knew Victor enjoyed above all else, it was his attention, and Roman was more than happy to indulge.

With Victor absolutely immobilised, he was left to Romans’ mercy and the rush of power which this knowledge sent thrumming through his veins was intoxicating.

Victor Zsasz would never be domesticated yet he would willingly allow Roman to hold the leash.

The latest addition to Victors’ collection of marks was a fresh score, situated just between his second and third rib, and its mottled scabbing stood out against its white brothers as it healed to match them. Running a gloved finger atop it, Roman surveyed it keenly.

“The mess you made with this one, pet.” He murmured, mostly to himself but loud enough for Victor to hear. “I’m amazed the cleaners managed to scrub the blood from the floor.” He danced the brush along the mark, taking great care to ensure that his own line was as sharp as the one carved beneath it.

Roman traced a soft hand up along Victors’ bare leg, smearing some of his earlier work as he traced the inner thighs of his canvas and tactfully ghosted his fingers along the thick bulge which was desperately trying to escape the confines of its tight briefs.

For his teasing, he was rewarded with a constricted groan as Victors’ groin jutted out, desperately seeking more friction as he ground against Romans’ fingers for a moment before Roman pulled them away with a smirk.

“You’re trying to distract me from my art lesson.” Roman growled, placing the flat of his palm against Victors’ chest, his fingers pushing through the dark chest hair and further disturbing the paint which he had placed their earlier. “They all say patience is a virtue.”

Pushing forward so his body was flush against Victors’ and ruining his light blue suit in the process, Roman ground his upper thigh into Victors’ crotch and ran his teeth along the exposed veins of his neck as Victor leaned into the rough treatment.

“Lucky for you I’m a fucking sinner, baby.”


	3. Prompt - “Don’t worry. I won’t let you suffocate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy lads! As always, feedback is absolutely loved, appreciated and will result in more output. Them's the rules. I didn't make them lmao xx

The tension within the room was palatable as Roman continued to explain his latest purchase to his restrained lover.

“Crafted in the 18th Century,” Roman purred, “and used by a notoriously twisted bastard who like to keep track of all his kills using a small bound book. Men, women, children. He did ‘em all. I’ll show you the book later.”

Draping the noose across Victors’ exposed chest and allowing the coarse rope to tickle the skin, Roman paused to admire the vast expanse of scarring which fascinated him so.

“I bought it for us,” he continued, “thought we might try an old-school hanging in the near future. Set up a rig and all that. Maybe use it on those tech freaks who wouldn’t accept a contract from us last month.” Tapping a finger over Victors’ right nipple, amused to see it harden under his feather light touch, Roman was contemplative. “What do you think?”

“Great idea, boss. It’ll make a great show.”

“Obviously I wanted to try it out before we use it for real, save any embarrassing failures due a stray bit of fraying or something like that, and I thought you would like to help me test it out.” Romans’ hand lowered from Victors’ nipple to brush over the clear tent in his slacks. “Do you want to help me, Mr. Zsasz?

It took great restraint for Victor not to attempt to snap the ties which kept his hands secured to the chair he had agreed to be bound to for this little game. His hands were itching to pull Romans’ mesh shirt free and run across the smooth skin on his hips, to grab the skin there and pull Roman close enough to satiate the growing heat in his belly.

However, Roman had asked for him to be restrained and Romans’ games always meant that Victor would be subjected to his undivided attention and eager to comply. When Roman was in this type of mood, playful yet in need of control, it usually ended in something spectacular and delightfully wicked which would no doubt leave him a mess.

No one could push him to the brink like Roman could. It was almost a spiritual experience, how the other man could inspire feeling within Victor in a way which no other person he had encountered had even come close to. When he encountered an individual with vibrance and life he was consumed with the need to snuff it out, to watch as it slowly trickled free from the wounds he would inflict on them.

Roman was different. So full of life and vibrance, and yet it did not possess the glaring shine which offended him so. Instead, it was a pure, unyielding darkness which was beautiful in how fathomless and hopeless it was. An abyss in which any depravity any twisted act, would be met with nothing more than a smirk and a warm embrace.

It was an abyss into which Victor has willingly thrown himself and he had no intention of finding a way out.

Dragged from his thoughts with a groan as a hard pressure made itself known on his groin; Victor blinked as Romans’ face met his as the other man sat on his lap.

“Don’t worry,” leaning forward to nip at Victors’ throat with sharp teeth, Roman pulled the noose over Victors’ head and adjusted the knot so that it could lay flat on his chest, “I won’t let you suffocate.”

As the knot was pulled up towards his throat, Victor tilted his head back in an open sign of trust as he allowed Roman to secure it as tightly as he wished. He was not to be disappointed as Roman immediately pulled the rope taut enough that Victor already had to pause in order to assess how much oxygen he would be able to take in.

The rope was coarse and smelled faintly of oil but Victor paid it little mind as he focused on the intense look which Roman was giving him. Assessing him. Wondering how far he could be pushed before he broke.

Victor held back a smirk at the thought.

He was unbreakable.

But if anyone could, he supposed it could be Roman.

“Not…worried.” Victor managed to bite out in response to Romans’ comment, the pain the words caused him sending waves of pleasure rolling through his body as his adams apple strained against the rough rope.

The pressure around his neck grew and was now causing his breath to be drawn erratically as Victor fought off his rapidly restricting air flow while the growing sense of panic made his cock twitch in his slacks. To add to his torment, Roman was now grinding his ass gently against his confined cock as he kept the noose tight against his throat.

“Maybe I’ll do it then!” Roman growled, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he played his part. “Maybe I’ll pull tight and sit here to watch the light leave those lovely dark eyes. You can’t stop me and we both know you’ll struggle beautifully.”

A low whine escaped Victors’ throat at the words, and he bucked up against Roman frantically, seeking out more contact.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Holding secure on the noose, Roman instead concentrated on his words knowing the effect they would have on the restrained man.

“I own you and I can do what I like with the things I own.” Roman mused. “I could cut you free and have you blow me right here and now. I could leave you here to suffocate slowly as I watch and touch myself.” Moaning for effect, Roman ghosted his hands across his own concealed cock. “Or I could dip into your jacket and steal one of your knives. Cut you slowly and see what you choke on first, the rope or your own blood.”

The desire within Victors’ expression was undeniable and Roman did not doubt for a moment that the assassin would be happy to indulge him in any of those fantasies. There was little that the two would not indulge in, should the mood take them, and Roman was already planning on his own reward which Victor would administer later that evening once their work was complete.

Trapped beneath Roman, Victor could only bite at his inner lip and grip the wood of the chair roughly as Roman talked through what he could do with him. Every thought send a wave of interest to his cock which only made him painfully hard as Roman continued to choke him. He loved it when Roman cut him, the rush from the incisions taking away his breath better than any noose could, and he always saved the best spots.

Only the best for Roman.

Distracted, Victor jumped as Romans’ thumb swiped across his lips, the soft touch sending a bolt of heat through him as Roman wiped away a small touch of saliva which was collecting at the corner of his mouth, his panicked state keeping his mouth open and unable to swallow properly. White spots were beginning to touch at the very edge of Victors’ vision as Roman kept the rope wound tightly around his neck and the pressure on his cock was torturous as Roman had made it clear that he would not be offering any further assistance than his grinding.

Gathering his strength, Victor frantically started to push up against Romans’ ass and the additional friction against his trapped cock brought as much pain as it did pleasure. He was close and it was just a question of which would give first, his orgasm or his consciousness.

“Do you want to cum before you pass out?” Romans’ voice was harsh, yet his free hand was gentle as it cupped the back of Victors’ neck, testing the tautness of the rope as it bit into the skin there.

Sensing the playful tone beneath the question even as his body fought against his restraints, his desperation for oxygen causing the wood of the chair to rattle dangerously, Victor had enough energy to nod once even as his eyes burned and watered. His heart was hammering in his chest and the frantic nature of it was almost hypnotic as the blood rushed in both his ears and his cock.

“Then cum for me, baby!”

At the demand, Victor could not hold back any longer and his vision blacked out for a moment as his orgasm hit. Still confined within his slacks, his release was hot and sticky as it coated the inside of his boxers, a feeling only made more apparent by Roman as he continued to grind against him and spread the unseen mess further. Every nerve in his body seemed to be alight as the pleasure collided with the pain of the ongoing suffocation and melted together into something indescribable.

Just as the intensity of Victors’ orgasm started to subside, Roman loosened the knot around his throat and as the first gulps of air reached his aching lungs Victor was finally able to release the groan which had been trapped within him for so long as he panted and twitched while his body reacted gratefully to the oxygen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt caught me in JUST the right mood. I'm super strapped for time rn so this is the first draft which hasn't been edited so there may be a few wee mistakes here and there. Apologies but its this or nothing tbh and i will go back an edit when time isn't a bitch xx


	4. Dental Hygiene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire fic is based on the dream of a friend of mine (tumblr user gothamsgaygirlgang) who has openly accused me of implanting dreams in his subconscious. He is, of course, absolutely correct. I wish i had more time to edit this but time isn't on my side right now.
> 
> As always, feedback is always loved, appreciated, and really contributes towards further content. Thank ye xx

Lounging in Romans’ bathroom with his back pressed against the pristine white marble of the counter, Victor was mentally running the possible outcomes of the meeting they would be attending in the next hour as he zoned in and out of Romans’ assessments.

“Hmm, I like the shirt with the slacks.” Roman muttered, surveying Victors’ outfit with a critical eye, “Not massive on the shoes but they’ll do for now.”

“I like these shoes.” Victor retorted, eyes drifting to the bedroom beyond the bathroom. He was bored and he wanted Roman to know it.

Roman ignored him.

“I’m pleased you put that toner through your hair yesterday; you fucked the bleach up again and the brassy yellow was becoming an eyesore. You know I hate it when you look messy.”

Victor barely contained his sigh, “Do we need to do this?”

“You’re mine now, Victor,” stopping in place, Romans’ gaze was piercing as he speared Victor in place with his pale blue eyes, “and I want you to look your best for our guests.”

“Boss, I worked with him for less than a year. Boring assassin shit. Nothing like the fun we have.”

“I just want to show the world that Roman Sionis values his employees.”

Romans’ grin was almost feral, but the smile did not quite meet his eyes.

Discovering that his latest client was one of Victors’ ex-employers had brought out the jealous, possessive streak in Roman which had Victor hoping that the old fat fuck would say something out of line and Roman would fly off the handle. A possessive Roman was a dangerous Roman and Victor loved to reap the rewards of his rage, particularly when the subject of possession was himself.

Victor has dedicated himself to Roman and his cause, and to feel that dedication rewarded with unbridled jealousy and possessiveness was the closest thing to love he thought he might ever experience.

Plus, his body count had never been higher and not a week passed without a new mark being added to his collection.

“Sure, boss. Whatever you say.”

Roman moved in for an apparently satisfied kiss but as Victor shuffled forward to meet him, Roman withdrew sharply.

“Brush your teeth. Your breath smells like shit, Victor.” Roman chastised, instead choosing to brush imaginary lint off the deep blue bowling shirt to cover his distaste. “I don’t know why you insist on smoking before we go into meetings.”

Victor shrugged, unbothered by the accusation.

“Keeps my head clear.”

Glancing at his watch, Victor realised that they still had the better part of an hour before the guy was due to arrive. He was going to suggest that Roman have something to eat before they went down but as he looked up at his boss, he was caught off-guard by the expectant look on Romans’ face as though he were waiting for something.

“We ready to go?” He asked, mind whirring to work out what he could have missed.

“Brush your teeth.” Roman repeated, wiggling his hand in the direction of the toiletries which decorated the countertop.

“You serious?” Victor raised his brows. He did not like to defy Roman, very rarely having the need to do so, but this seemed a touch ridiculous.

“Do I look like I am joking, _Victor_?”

The slight drawl to his name was enough to let Victor know that Roman was in fact serious, but Victor was unfazed by the hanging threat. They had much bigger issues to deal with at the moment and they both knew it.

“There’s no point, boss, i’ll fire up a fresh smoke as soon as we leave this ro-”

“Open your mouth.” The playful tone had vanished, and Victor watched as Romans’ arm stretched past him to pick up his toothbrush from the holder. “You can do it voluntarily or I can ram a spider gag in there and force it open? Make the smart choice, Mister Zsasz.”

Victor bit back the temptation to push his luck and instead opened his mouth with some reluctance. Roman had clearly made his mind up about what was going to happen and there was no point in trying to move past it, particularly when Roman was in this type of mood. He was volatile and Victor would rather he kept that energy for their meeting.

There was an unnatural edge to holding his mouth open for someone else and Victor watched passively as Roman coated his toothbrush in the whitening toothpaste which he bought specifically for Victor himself to use. A lifetime of smoking and bad habits had yellowed his teeth and Roman has taken it upon himself to try and fix some of the damage, even going as far as to pay for the dental work to have his metal teeth reinforced and realigned. Victors’ previous dental work had, admittedly, been cheap and barely legal but Roman had been generous with his resources, ensuring only the best for his right hand.

It was mildly humiliating, but beneath the shame he could feel a flicker of heat curl in his belly at how Romans’ presence had filled the room as he took control of such a basic task. Romans’ bare hand was gripping his lower jaw gently, the soft pads of his fingers barely perceptible through his dark stubble, and even though the hold lacked any real bite Victor knew there would be no escaping it. The toothbrush settled against his lips and he opened his mouth further, giving Roman the go-ahead to begin as he once again settled against the countertop.

Keeping his tongue to the bottom of his mouth, Victor allowed Roman to push the toothbrush to his back teeth and begin to run it along his uneven teeth. The cooling effect of the menthol, mixed with the slight chemical taste of whatever the other ingredients were, started to coat his tongue and the sensation felt oddly heightened as he concentrated on the feeling and unfamiliar rhythm of the brushing.

Shifting in position, Victor realised that he was semi-hard within his slacks, his body betraying him as he enjoyed the attention and control which Roman held over him in this moment. He was a dangerous man, having shed more blood than anyone else he knew, and no one would ever dare to call him out and challenge him on something as trivial as his hygiene.

Until Roman.

Whatever mild irritation might bite as him as he was forced to consider his appearance and other trivial matters, was absolutely consumed by the obsessive need which he possessed to give Roman everything that he desired; and if Roman desired him to make an effort then he would. Roman had given him purpose and the resources to allow his every twisted desire to be fulfilled and in return he had given himself fully to Roman and his cause.

Pulled from this thoughts as Roman continued to work the toothbrush around his mouth, now moving to work on his left side, Victor could not stop his hands from wandering across the soft fabric of Romans’ suit and he was rewarded with Roman taking a step towards him, allowing him easier access.

His hands slid lower, ghosting over the bulge of Romans’ crotch and the brush within his mouth jerked roughly against him gums as a hiss escaped Romans’ lips. He didn’t pull away though and Victor felt him push forward slightly.

An invitation.

Unzipping Romans’ fly, Victor was able to loosen the button and slip his hand past the waistband of Romans’ boxers, taking his semi-hard length into his hand. The familiar warmth was welcome, and Victor felt himself harder further as he set into a leisurely pace while Roman continued his task. He loved the sensation of Roman within his hand and his eyes zeroed in on the flush which overtook Romans’ cheeks at the unexpected turn of events.

“Christ, Victor.” Roman growled and Victor could feel the pressure of the brush within his mouth grow harsher as Roman was worked over by Victors’ insistent hand. “Fuck me.”

“Don’t have the time, boss.” Victor mumbled. “Meeting in an hour.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Roman chastised, but his words lacked any real fire and Victor felt the grip on his jaw disappear and be replaced by a rough hand palming him through his slacks. A move which drew a groan from his throat, the noise clear despite the toothbrush occupying his mouth.

The rough treatment of his cock forced Victor to up his game as he quickened the pace of his hand, twisting the wrist on every upward stroke which earned him several grunts of approval as Roman neared his end. The brush within his mouth has long given up any movement and Victor used his free hand to pull it free before turning quickly to spit out the paste.

Grabbing the front of Romans’ shirt, he pulled him in close and attacked his mouth in a brutal kiss. Stroking him roughly as he made a decent attempt to devour him, Victor felt the tell-tale twitching of Romans’ cock as his orgasm hit and he had the foresight to keep his hand positioned at the tip of his cock to prevent any messy staining.

As he came, Romans’ hand settled on Victors’ shoulder in a vice-like grip as he allowed Victor to use him in a way which they both knew he would allow no other. Once satisfied, Victor released Roman from his grip and tactfully used a nearby hand towel to wipe off the mess on his hands as he pulled away from their kiss.

“Taste better?” He asked, voice hoarse with his own desire. Noticing a small drop of come that he had missed, Victor brought his hand up to his mouth and licked it away, taking note of the slight dilation of Romans’ eyes at the action. His own cock was still rock-hard, but he was happy to wait to get his own when the timing was better.

“You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” Roman purred, tucking himself back in with a satisfied smirk. “Letting me take care of you like this, despite the fact that you couldn’t give less of a fuck. Maybe my favourite bodyguard and assassin deserves a treat.”

Hope alit in Victors’ chest and his cock twitched at the thought of getting some real attention.

“Do we have time?” He asked, running his tongue along his teeth, the strong taste of menthol still very present. If Roman wanted to please him then he wouldn’t say no, but he did not want to catch hell for the distraction.

“I’m Roman fucking Sionis,” Roman growled, “if I tell them to wait then they’ll wait.”

Dropping slowly to his knees, so not to crease his clothing, Roman took a moment to place his mouth over the visible tent of Victors’ slacks and the barely-there heat of his mouth had Victor pushing out to meet it.

 _Fuck_.

Roman was going to kill him one of these days.

Quick hands had his belt removed and his slacks unzipped before he could really stop to appreciate the sight of Roman kneeling before him but the moment his cock met the cool air of the bathroom Victor couldn’t suppress a moan. If he’d known that Roman would choose to mark his territory like this then he would have smoked a twenty pack before they’d even started getting ready.

His moan quickly devolved into a high-pitched keen as Roman licked a salacious line across his cock, from base to tip, before accepting him into his mouth. He was so hard it was almost painful and Roman knew exactly how to work him and he did so with enthusiasm. It was almost a performance and Victor knew it was a sign of possessive pride, Roman owned him and only Roman knew how to give him what he wanted.

Already worked-up from both the teeth-brushing and the heavy petting, it only took a few skilled bobs of Romans’ head to bring Victor over the edge and he rode out his orgasm by grasping the marble of the bathroom counter. His fingers itched to bury themselves in Romans’ hair but after having watched the other man spend twenty minutes getting it coiffed into a perfect position, he knew better. Bucking into Romans’ mouth, Victor felt a familiar thrill of zealous dominance as Roman swallowed down everything he had to offer without hesitation. He may agree to Romans’ whims, but he was by no means domesticated and if Roman owned him then he owned Roman to the same extent.

As Roman pulled his mouth free of his softening cock and rose back to his full height, Victor took the opportunity to reuse the hand cloth to wipe away any excess mess. The air within the bathroom smelled like sex and the increased temperature had Victor sweating slightly within his outfit even as he tried to control the rapid beating of his heart and leftover arousal.

Roman checked his watch once again.

“We have half an hour before that fat fuck is due to show up,” glancing at himself in the mirror, Roman fixed a tiny bit of hair which had fallen out of place, “so why don’t we go make the rounds in the club and see what shit has crossed our threshold for the evening?”

“Want me to bring a piece?” Victor asked, absent-mindedly pawing the knife which he kept in his pocket. “If we’re expecting trouble?”

“Yeah. Bring a gun.” Roman gave a slow, exaggerated nod before a wicked grin split his face. “Also bring those new knives I had imported from London. If that ugly fuck makes so much as one wrong look in your direction, then you’re welcome to take his eyes.”

There it was, and Victor immediately matched Romans’ grin with one of his own.

“Understood, boss.”


	5. Drabble - Blood/Clothing Fetish/Humiliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the nsfw drabble prompts i got over on tumblr xx

The aroused dilation of Victor’s eyes as he watched the leather-clad fingers wrap around the scalpel which was stained with his own blood sent an ache straight to Roman’s cock as he circled the bound man. A few droplets of blood had trickled down the scalpel and come to rest atop his thumb, clinging to the gloves and just waiting for the opportunity to fall.

Bringing his thumb to Victor’s mouth, he pushed past the full lips and was immediately rewarded with Victor wrapping his tongue around the pad of the glove as a soft groan emitted from his chest at the taste of the fresh blood.

“Disgusting,” pulling his thumb free of Victor’s insistent mouth, Roman shifted to grip his chin painfully as he forced Victor’s face up to meet his own, “you really are nothing more than a pitbull. Frothing at the mouth at the thought of a little blood. Maybe i should buy you a leash?”

Releasing his grip as a further grunt of aroused agreement met his words as well as an obvious shudder of interest, Roman instead moved to concentrate again on the three deep incisions which were streaked along Victor’s exposed collarbone. Freshly cut, all three were still gently bleeding and droplets of red decorated Victor’s chest and lap with more than one having landed on the hard length which was pressed against his stomach and spasming with every action which Roman inflicted upon him.

“Pathetic,” Roman muttered as he swiped his glove across the open wounds, sending a shiver of delicious pain through Victor as the leather stretched the cut skin further open, “such a fucking waste of good skin.”


End file.
